Chapter 76 Strong Strength

Chapter 76: Overwhelming Strength

Jiang Ruotang sat at his desk, his mind completely wandering.

The sensation of the potato chip lifting and brushing against his upper lip kept replaying in his mind. In his hand was a retractable pen, and only after pressing down did he realize he was holding it upside down—his thumb had pressed the tip instead.

Luckily, Jian Sha didn’t witness this, or she would’ve made up another wild story.

Lu Guifan had already collected assignments as far as Bai Yingchuan’s seat, extending his hand for the paper. Bai Yingchuan handed it over but didn’t let go, his fingers still gripping one corner tightly.

Lu Guifan, about to leave, tugged once and found the paper unmoved. He turned his head slightly, meeting Bai Yingchuan’s gaze.

His usual mask of gentle smiles seemed to crack, revealing a chilling coldness directed straight at Lu Guifan.

Lin Lu, standing nearby, was stunned—it was the first time he’d seen Bai Yingchuan show such an expression.

But Lu Guifan’s face remained impassive. Gripping the other end of the paper, his hold felt like a silent warning, bearing down on Bai Yingchuan.

Lin Lu couldn’t let the standoff continue. Softly, he asked Bai Yingchuan, “Aren't you going to hand it in?”

Only then did Bai Yingchuan release his hold. Without another word, Lu Guifan took the paper and left.

He glanced back toward Jiang Ruotang, who was talking to Jian Sha about their English assignment.

*Jiang Ruotang, he thought, do you know the tips of your ears are still red?*

Bai Yingchuan wanted to ask him—what was so great about Lu Guifan? So rigid and by-the-book, just because of those pointless problems that meant nothing outside of school?

But soon, Bai Yingchuan could only mock himself. Apart from this good-looking face that no longer held any appeal for Jiang Ruotang, he was the one truly useless.

During the break, Jiang Ruotang went downstairs to pick up the milk tea he’d ordered. For Cai Ji and Jian Sha, he’d gotten the buy-one-get-one-half-off deal, but for Lu Guifan, it was still oolong tea with golden daylily.

Lu Guifan took it, glanced at it, and said softly, “I could’ve gotten milk tea too.”

Meaning he wouldn’t have minded splitting the two-for-one deal with Jiang Ruotang.

Jiang Ruotang grinned and shook his own cup. “I switched to Hangzhou chrysanthemum tea.”

“Hm?” Lu Guifan’s eyes held a faint question.

“I'm running too hot—my tongue hurts.”

Jian Sha overheard and immediately rubbed salt in the wound, “That's what you get for eating most of that bucket of chips. This is heaven’s punishment for being greedy with snacks.”

“How was I hogging? You and Cai Ji had some too!”

“Oh, please. Even the class monitor had to wrestle the last piece from you. If you’d left any for him, your tongue wouldn’t hurt now.”

Cai Ji nodded. “I bet you’ll get pimples tomorrow.”

Jiang Ruotang shook a fist at him. “So cruel.”

A hand pressed against the back of his head. Lu Guifan’s voice sounded, “Let me see your tongue.”

Jiang Ruotang was reluctant, only extending the very tip—red and slightly swollen—before quickly pulling it back.

“Not too bad. Eat more vegetables at lunch.”

Jiang Ruotang replied dismissively, “Got it, Father Guifan.”

Lu Guifan could only give his head another push.

Over the weekend, Bai Yingchuan went with Sister Yu and their lawyer to the commercial building where Sweet Fruit was located—Floors 15 to 20 of Tower A in the Twin Gold Mall.

As she parked, Sister Yu marveled, “Sweet Fruit’s fundraising ability is this impressive? Rent at Twin Gold Mall isn’t cheap. Gao Cheng rented out five floors? Do they even have that many employees?”

Bai Yingchuan replied flatly, “We’ll find out when we get there.”

After parking in the underground garage, Bai Yingchuan—wearing a baseball cap and face mask—entered the elevator just as a young man with a Sweet Fruit employee badge rushed in while on a call.

Sister Yu initially wanted to close the elevator quickly, not wanting outsiders who might chat with Bai Yingchuan or leak news before any deal was finalized.

But Bai Yingchuan shook his head and stepped back, letting the young man in.

Too busy to notice who was behind him, the man continued his call.

“...I know, President Zeng... Our ad slots are fully booked for the next two months... Even with extra payment for urgency, we can’t—we’ve signed contracts with other brands! But don’t worry, our creative team has already drafted multiple versions for your new shower gel. You can review them first, and once we agree on the script, production will fly!”

The elevator doors opened. The young man hurried out, barely hanging up before another call came in.

He took a deep breath, thumped his chest, and answered, “President Qiao, are you satisfied with the chocolate ad script? Oh, you want the nuts highlighted more? Got it, I’ll note that. We’ll revise and resubmit ASAP...”

Like a ghost, he slipped into an office. Through the glass wall, about twenty workstations were visible, each piled with files—clearly in use. Even on a weekend, five or six young employees worked with frenzied energy. The door read: *Business Development Dept. 1*.

Sister Yu approached the front desk and explained why they were there. The receptionist smiled and quickly led them in.

“May I ask—aside from Business Development Dept. 1, how many others are there?”

“Dept. 2 as well. Dept. 3 is currently being established.”

Sister Yu took a quiet breath. If this was any indication, Sweet Fruit’s monthly ad revenue alone must be huge.

Bai Yingchuan asked, “Could you give us an overview of the departments in this building?”

The receptionist smiled. “Floor 15 is Business Development. Floor 16 is Customer Service. Floor 17 is R&D: big data algorithms, special effects, video interfaces, etc. Floor 18 is Data Analysis and Marketing. Floor 19 is Administration and Finance, including meeting rooms.”

Floor 20 was obviously the executive offices for core management like Gao Cheng.

“President Gao is planning to lease five additional floors. We’re expanding our in-house animated advertising department, among other departments, so five floors won’t be enough. Of course, if the provincial government confirms development plans for Chengtan, we could just build our own headquarters there. Rumor has it, Sweet Fruit’s primary investor has plenty of resources in Chengtan.”

At this, Sister Yu exchanged a meaningful look with Bai Yingchuan: Sweet Fruit was much more financially secure than they’d imagined.

But Bai Yingchuan didn’t jump at this. Every company he partnered with bragged about how strong they were.

“President Gao’s expansion plans are so ambitious—isn’t he worried about cash flow issues?” Bai Yingchuan asked bluntly.

The receptionist chuckled. “I wouldn't call it aggressive, but Sweet Fruit’s capital is ample, and not just from bank loans. For investment specifics, you’d have to ask President Gao.”

Bai Yingchuan was secretly surprised. He’d underestimated Sweet Fruit, assuming it was debt-ridden—yet it had funds to invest?

When they entered the small conference room, several people were already seated.

Among them was CEO Gao Cheng, beside whom sat a stern-looking man around fifty.

Gao Cheng and the others stood. Bai Yingchuan quickly removed his cap and mask as greetings were exchanged.

Gao Cheng introduced the attendees: “This is Mr. Zheng Huasheng—Sweet Fruit’s largest shareholder and chairman to date.”

Sister Yu quickly stepped forward to shake hands, "Mr. Zheng, thank you and Gao Cheng for the invitation, giving Ying Chuan and me the opportunity to visit Little Sweet Fruit's headquarters!"

Having acted in films since childhood, Bai Yingchuan was well-versed in social etiquette. He offered a humble smile and shook hands with Zheng Huasheng.

But inwardly, he wondered how this Mr. Zheng could be the largest shareholder of Little Sweet Fruit—his financial resources must be substantial. Moreover, video platforms were part of the entertainment industry, so why had he never heard of this figure before?

"This is our finance director. If you have any questions about our company's financial strength, I believe he can provide you with professional answers."

Gao Cheng continued, "This is Chen Dan, the general manager of our Marketing Department. If we reach a cooperation agreement, he will be your direct point of contact."

Chen Dan leaned back in his chair, raising a hand in greeting toward Bai Yingchuan.

Sister Yu was stunned. Anyone in the entertainment industry would know Chen Dan's family background. She wasn’t sure about his professional competence, but the Chen family’s influence in the industry was well-established—his resources were far beyond what someone like Lin Chengdong could match.

Bai Yingchuan greeted each of them politely.

Finally, there was a handsome middle-aged man wearing wire-frame glasses, exuding an extraordinary presence.

"This is Dai Ming, the Director of our Legal Department at Little Sweet Fruit."

Sister Yu stepped forward to shake his hand. "Lawyer Dai! I’ve heard so much about you! Previously, Bai Yue had a contract dispute with a film company, and we had hoped to enlist your help, but you were abroad at the time, so we missed the chance."

"I did hear about that case. It’s unfortunate that Ms. Bai Yue lost. We studied the case and concluded that it shouldn’t have gone to court. The best approach would have been for Ms. Bai Yue to accept mediation, limiting the damage."

Sister Yu nodded. "Lawyer Dai, you’re absolutely right. Bai Yue really regrets it. If you had been involved, perhaps a better settlement could have been negotiated."

Having such a renowned lawyer on board made Sister Yu more confident in Little Sweet Fruit.

Once everyone was seated, Gao Cheng dispensed with pleasantries and got straight to the point.

They had carefully planned everything for Bai Yingchuan—from video columns to fan communities and exclusive special effects. Sister Yu nodded repeatedly, even imagining fans hosting online parties here, which seemed hard to believe.

Gao Cheng even proposed the concept of Bai Yingchuan hosting an online concert on Little Sweet Fruit, with detailed ideas on fundraising and enhancing the sense of realism.

Sister Yu was genuinely tempted. If an online concert were possible, fans wouldn’t have to travel long distances to attend in person, and without the high costs of venue rentals, they could even interact via live comments. After costs, the actual profits might not be much lower than those of a physical concert.

She looked eagerly at Bai Yingchuan, urging him to accept. Whether it was Yunfeng, Qilin Video, or any major film company, none could offer the level of customized offerings that Little Sweet Fruit was proposing for Bai Yingchuan!

Yet, at that moment, Bai Yingchuan’s thoughts were on Jiang Ruotang. Truly, when one door closes, another opens.

Jiang Ruotang was his guide.

"Could I learn more about Little Sweet Fruit’s financial status and specific investments?" Bai Yingchuan first glanced at the finance director, then at Gao Cheng.

Gao Cheng nodded, but Lawyer Dai had them sign a non-disclosure agreement first. Then, the finance director handed Bai Yingchuan a stack of documents.

Bai Yingchuan pored over them.

"You actually invested in Fairy?" He looked up in surprise.

Gao Cheng smiled, thinking of Jiang Ruotang.

Jiang Ruotang rarely attended board meetings, but he often had unusual investment ideas—like becoming a substantial shareholder in Fairy. This way, when Little Sweet Fruit produced in-house animations, they could collaborate with Fairy, ensuring that every young person who bought a milk tea would see promotions for the new animation.

Importantly, the stock would rise.

Initially, Gao Cheng had dismissed Jiang Ruotang’s whims, but to his surprise, Chairman Zheng Huasheng supported the decision, saying the investment held promise.

So, they acquired a 5% stake in Fairy. Now, the stock price was rising steadily.

There were also tech stocks, particularly in cloud computing, emerging domestic smartphones, and social media—all closely tied to Little Sweet Fruit’s future growth. The projected returns alone could reach 30% to 50%.

Gao Cheng noticed Bai Yingchuan lingered on that part, seemingly surprised by Little Sweet Fruit’s accurate foresight into the tech industry’s explosive potential.

Of course, these three major investments had been carefully discussed by Jiang Ruotang with Gao Cheng and Zheng Huasheng. At the time, both had thought them risky—though these sectors were bound to flourish in the future, tying up funds in them seemed too dangerous.

But Jiang Ruotang was adamant. As the true major shareholder, Gao Cheng and Zheng Huasheng had to respect his decision.

As for Qi Yanze, he had fully supported the move, as his gut told him—these investments would pay off.

There were also ventures into new energy vehicles and resource stocks, where Little Sweet Fruit had turned quick profits, bringing in tens of millions within half a month.

Gao Cheng and Zheng Huasheng had once asked how Jiang Ruotang could predict so accurately.

Jiang Ruotang had only smiled mysteriously, saying that after he turned 28, his foresight would fail.

Gao Cheng and Zheng Huasheng thought he was speaking cryptically, but they agreed with his philosophy—technology was the future.

After reviewing these investments, Bai Yingchuan realized that Little Sweet Fruit was no second-rate video platform—it was the strongest and most ideal partner he could find at the moment.

When Bai Yingchuan glanced at the shareholder list, the first name was a company called "Tang Yun Culture Investment."

He held his breath, his heart skipping a beat.

Why did this company’s name include the character "Tang"?

What connection did it have with Jiang Ruotang? And how could Jiang Ruotang set up a direct introduction with Gao Cheng so effortlessly?

Perhaps Bai Yingchuan had been so absorbed in the financial documents. Sister Yu, meanwhile, received a message from Bai Yue asking about the meeting. Excusing herself to use the restroom, she stepped out to call back.

At that moment, Bai Yingchuan looked up at Gao Cheng. "May I ask—how did you and my classmate Jiang Ruotang meet? It’s incredible that he could connect me directly to you."

Gao Cheng smiled. Both he and Mr. Zheng understood and supported Jiang Ruotang’s decision to keep a low profile. Given his youth and the high returns on his investments, if it became public, his life would be filled with countless opportunists.

"Ruotang and I met at a gallery exhibition," Gao Cheng said. "I never expected someone so young to already have his work displayed. I especially liked his piece, 'The Bowing Sunflower.' I had just left Qilin Video and was feeling down. He offered some advice, and we became friends."

Every word Gao Cheng said was true—except for omitting that Jiang Ruotang was his boss.

"President Gao, could you tell me which gallery it was? I also admire his paintings," Bai Yingchuan asked, his voice calm but carrying a trace of urgency he couldn’t hide.

"Of course. It was the Deep Blue Gallery," Gao Cheng replied with a smile.

In the hallway, Sister Yu tried to contain her excitement as she updated Bai Yue on the meeting.

"Yue-jie, you can rest easy. Little Sweet Fruit is much more reliable than we imagined. Just their external investments alone generate substantial annual dividends. Even the newly listed sports brand, Cloud Climber—didn’t you hope Bai Yingchuan could become their ambassador?"

Bai Yue listened in astonishment, Sister Yu’s last remark hitting home.

"Yue-jie, forgive me for saying this… but why must you stick with Lin Chengdong? I don’t think he’s capable, and he’s cost you plenty. Little Sweet Fruit’s future plans include investing in films and TV dramas. If Yingchuan collaborates with them and builds a relationship, he might even secure some solid opportunities for you—far better than staying tied to Lin Chengdong!"

Bai Yue’s throat tightened as a surge of resentment welled up from deep within.

Her career was already in decline, yet Bai Yingchuan had found such a dependable partner. All her efforts for him had been in vain—perhaps even misguided.

Now, she might have to rely on Bai Yingchuan to escape the quagmire of Lin Chengdong.

After hanging up, Sister Yu hurried back to the meeting room, where Bai Yingchuan was already discussing onboarding fees and video revenue shares with Gao Cheng.

To her surprise, Gao Cheng’s offer was more than reasonable. The two sides quickly reached an agreement, and the contract process would begin soon.

After leaving the Golden Mall, Sister Yu was still excited about finding a way out, but Bai Yingchuan remained calm. He checked the time and said, "Let's drop Sister Yu off first, then head to the Sapphire Gallery."

"To the gallery?" Sister Yu was puzzled.

After all, Bai Yingchuan rarely showed interest in art.

"Mr. Gao mentioned really liking one of the paintings there."

"Oh, I see—you want to buy it for him?"

Bai Yingchuan shook his head. "It's a non-sale item. I just want to see what the painting looks like."

Sister Yu laughed. "Right, it's good to understand Mr. Gao's preferences so conversations won’t be awkward next time."

Bai Yingchuan said no more. In Sister Yu’s—and even Bai Yue’s—mind, everything seemed to require a measure of benefit.

But he simply wanted to experience Jiang Ruotang’s world.

After they left, Gao Cheng returned to his office and called Jiang Ruotang.

At that moment, Jiang Ruotang was diligently working on practice questions at his desk, with Lu Guifan keeping watch over him, reading a biography of Leonardo da Vinci while keeping an eye on him out of the corner of his eye.

Jiang Ruotang’s phone vibrated, displaying "Gao Cheng" on the screen.

He picked it up and gave Lu Guifan an apologetic smile. "Shifu, I need to take this call."

"Go ahead."

The name "Gao Cheng" sounded familiar to Lu Guifan. His memory was sharp, and he quickly recalled that this was the CEO of Sweet Fruit.

Instinct told Lu Guifan that Jiang Ruotang might be discussing something not meant for many ears.

Closing the biography and setting it on the table, Lu Guifan said calmly, "Let me know when you're done."

Just as he was about to stand, Jiang Ruotang grabbed his wrist and pulled him back into the chair, shaking his head to signal that Lu Guifan should stay.

"Hello, Uncle Gao. How did the meeting go?"

"Pretty well. The fish we wanted has bit the bait." Gao Cheng chuckled, toying with a crystal paperweight on his desk. "Bai Yue will definitely be drawn to us. She... it's a shame about her acting skills—she’s too short-sighted, always chasing small advantages. If we can control Bai Yingchuan and stop him from being Lin Chengdong’s money-making tool, Lin Chengdong will surely panic."

Jiang Ruotang lowered his eyes and said softly, "If you want someone to fall, first let them go mad."

Gao Cheng laughed. "Then let’s wait and see just how mad Lin Chengdong can get."

After all, one of the main reasons Gao Cheng had been targeted at Kirin Video was because other executives had taken bribes from Lin Chengdong to push his formulaic, low-quality dramas. Gao Cheng had vocally opposed them in internal review meetings, making Lin Chengdong his enemy.

Lin Chengdong had stirred up plenty of trouble—otherwise, Gao Cheng wouldn’t have been singled out so aggressively.

After hanging up, Jiang Ruotang realized he had been gripping Lu Guifan’s hand the whole time. The other man’s hand was large, resting slightly open on his knee, letting Jiang Ruotang’s fingers laced with his.

Jiang Ruotang’s ears turned red. Just as he was about to pull away, Lu Guifan took his hand, turned it over, and placed it back on the test paper, saying softly, "Ready to continue?"

"Yeah!" Jiang Ruotang nodded. He had expected Lu Guifan to ask about his conversation with Gao Cheng, but Lu Guifan didn’t seem to care.

Then again, Lu Guifan had never been one to pry into others’ secrets.

What Jiang Ruotang didn’t know was that the moment he grabbed Lu Guifan, the other's heart had followed.

To Lu Guifan, everyone had secrets.

For instance, he could tell Jiang Ruotang and Gao Cheng were working together against Lin Chengdong. Though he didn’t know the details, the fact that Jiang Ruotang had chosen to share this secret was enough for Lu Guifan.

Just like how he had his own secret—he liked Jiang Ruotang and wished for him to succeed in whatever he wanted to do.

At 4:30 p.m., the Sapphire Gallery was half an hour from closing, deserted except for Bai Yingchuan.

He walked hurriedly—he needed to find Jiang Ruotang’s painting quickly.

Sunflower... a bowed sunflower...

As a new artist, Jiang Ruotang’s work wouldn’t be displayed prominently.

Just as Bai Yingchuan passed a corner, his heart skipped a beat, and he backtracked.

Finally, he saw it.

The sunlight streaming through the window seemed to carry an invisible weight, weighing the sunflower down until it couldn’t lift its head.

Wasn’t this just like the unseen forces in the entertainment industry?

Forcing him to submit, to obey, treating him as a profit puppet—any resistance would be crushed.

Like Gao Cheng, he saw himself in that painting.

Before he knew it, closing time arrived, and Bai Yingchuan had to leave.

He sent Jiang Ruotang a message: [Thanks for the introduction. I had a great discussion with Mr. Gao and the Sweet Fruit team today—we’ve reached a collaboration agreement.]

Jiang Ruotang replied quickly. When the notification popped up, Bai Yingchuan’s heart jumped.

But it was just a smiley face.

Bai Yingchuan had expected a "Congratulations," so he could invite Jiang Ruotang to dinner.

But with just an emoji, his finger hovered over the screen, unable to reply.

The first practice exam finally arrived. For the Chinese exam, Jiang Ruotang was so nervous his palms were sweaty.

Before entering the exam hall, he ran into Lu Guifan, who looked completely calm—a stark contrast to Jiang Ruotang.

One looked like he was going to a funeral, the other like he was floating on air.

"The first mock usually isn’t too hard—it’s just to test basic knowledge," Lu Guifan said.

"But my basics aren’t strong..." Jiang Ruotang took deep breaths.

Lu Guifan sighed. "The Tower of Pisa was built in 1173 and has been tilting for over 800 years without falling. You should believe in yourself too."

"Believe in what?"

"Happy accidents."

"Are you joking with me?!"

Other students hurried to find their assigned rooms, but Lu Guifan stood there casually, chatting with Jiang Ruotang.

In the morning light, his features appeared even more handsome. Passing students who didn’t know him couldn’t help but look his way.

"Ruo Tang, I’m not joking. Because I know your abilities—I know how well you've built your foundation. If you don’t believe in yourself, do you at least believe in me?" Lu Guifan asked softly.

His voice was so calm that Jiang Ruotang’s anxious heart calmed, the choking tension easing without notice.

Jiang Ruotang cocked his head. "Then what score do you think I’ll get?"

"About 520," Lu Guifan said lightly.

520... the code for "I love you"?